


Give Me A Sign

by hollanders



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:18:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10530639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollanders/pseuds/hollanders
Summary: Thomas has no idea why he still puts up with this shit.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [exadorlion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exadorlion/gifts), [MenaceAnon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MenaceAnon/gifts).



> Title is from Panic!'s song Mona Lisa. 
> 
> Dedicated to exadorlion for their animatic to the song Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High and MenaceAnon for their dance series, both of which inspired this.

Thomas picks up the phone after the third ring. He flicks the cigarette ash from his dark pants. 

“What do you want?” 

“A hello would have been nice,”

One sentence and Thomas can tell that Alex is drunk. Drunk, or high. Probably with John. That kid is a stoner if Thomas has ever seen one. 

“Alex, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” 

There’s a muffled laugh and rustling sound on the other line. The Virginian can practically feel Alexander’s warm body, flushed with whatever substance he chose to put into his body. Those dark eyes, bright and dancing, slightly out of focus. 

“I didn’t call you for a lecture. I’m doing a set tonight, if you wanna come. John, stop-”

Thomas leans back, considering. He’d probably go to the club, restrain Alex from ordering more drinks, act like a fucking babysitter to a grown man. 

But then again, who else would do it? 

Goddamn. 

He blows smoke from his mouth with a huff. “I’ll be there.” And then he quickly hangs up the phone. 

They say you can’t choose who you fall in love with, and they were right, whoever they were. If Thomas could choose, he would have stopped doing whatever this is for Alex a long time ago.

~

He’s already at the bar, sat on a stool and nursing his sorrows in a scotch when Alex arrives. His hair is mussed, shirt hanging off of one shoulder, bite marks on full display.

Thomas raises an eyebrow. “God, what did John do to you?”

“Nothing I didn’t want to happen,” The shorter man winks, and Thomas lets his head fall to the counter with a groan.

The shit he puts up with for this fucking-

“You know how he gets when he’s high,” Alex croons, slipping his arms around Thomas’ middle and nuzzling his face into his neck. “It doesn't mean anything though, Thom. You know it doesn’t.”

Right. 

“It never does, sweetheart.” He whispers, heart fluttering even as his stomach clenches, because none of this is real, none of it, and it never will be. 

“It never does.” 

~

Alex leaves to get ready for his set. It’s funny, all these years of watching Alex and Thomas has never actually seen him perform. He’s certain he’ll have some certain feelings about it. 

A body drops in the seat next to him, at the bar. So he has company. 

“Hey, man.” He says to John Laurens, because contrary to popular belief, they’re pretty friendly. Two losers infatuated with the same man. 

“Hey,” John says. His eyes are still hazy. Maybe this was a bad idea, to go to the bar. Thomas takes another sip.

“Have you ever seen Alex dance?”

“Yeah,” John responds, a slow grin stretching his lips. “Yeah. He’s….infuriatingly addictive to watch.”

Thomas knows the feeling.

~

The lights dim, except for a single spotlight on the pole. Thomas puts a hand on the counter to steady himself. 

Alex steps out, looking absolutely beautiful and brilliant and wearing so very little-

His eyes are half-lidded, the lights throwing shadows of his eyelashes across his cheekbones. His golden brown skin is on display, smooth and taut and slightly blushed. His dark hair brushes his shoulders, strands falling across his face.

“Oh fuck,” Thomas says, and John whistles, soft and low. 

Alex saunters towards the pole, those wide lips curled into a smirk. Thomas wishes he is drunker. 

In one smooth motion, the New Yorker pulls himself up and around the metal, suspending himself there. The tricks all fit with the music, his turns around the pole matching the thumping bass. 

He brings himself to the very top, clinging with his legs as he brings his head back and looks to the audience. Alex’s skin has a light sheen, hair wild, and eyes furious. He looks delicious. 

Thomas follows Alex’s gaze to John, who's sitting, captivated. Then Alex’s eyes flick over to lock with Thomas. 

“He’ll be the death of me,” Thomas says to John, half expecting his friend to not even acknowledge him. 

John does, though, hoarse and pained.

“And what a fantastic way to go.”

~

Alex doesn't take his eyes off of Thomas for the rest of his song. He doesn’t seem to blink. It’s simultaneously the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to Thomas. 

Then it’s over. And he disappears back into some area behind the stage. 

They both wait for him to come out after in silence. Thomas orders another scotch. If he drinks enough, maybe he’ll forget that this ever happened.

“So whaddya think?” 

Alex is back, and he’s wearing considerably more clothing. Thomas allows himself to breathe. 

“Amazing as ever, Lex.” John says, wrapping his arms around Alexander. He relaxes there for a second before dancing out of John’s reach. 

“And you, Tommy?”

He turns away, hiding his expression.  
“I didn’t know that you were that flexible,” He says, trying to make his voice light.

Alex only winks. “There’s plenty you don’t know about me, Thomas Jefferson.”

~

Laurens downs the rest of his drink in one sip. “I think I’m gonna head out for the night. You comin’, Alex?” His eyes are bright, hopeful, and Thomas shakes his head. 

Alex’s fingers play over the back of his chair. “Nah, there was a pretty girl staring. And I know a room in the back that’s just big enough for two. Don’t wait up,” The last bit is directed towards the Virginian.

Of course. 

Thomas has argued with Alexander before that Alex is a dancer, not a prostitute. But Alex seems fine with offering his body up for whoever wants it. (Anyone except Thomas, of course.) Not that Thomas even wants him like this.

Not as a consolation prize, not because everyone else is getting Alex, so wouldn’t it be fair to let poor Thomas have a turn, too? He doesn’t want mumbled words and flimsy one-night-stands and for Alex to taste like beer when they kiss. 

He doesn’t want Alex to leave after they're done. 

He wants all of Alex- every part. He wants to be able to roll over in the morning and kiss him breathless. He wants nights in and popcorn instead of drinking. He wants to love, and be loved in return.

He wants another cigarette. 

Thomas is not one to lie to himself- he knows that he’ll never get that kind of love from Alexander Hamilton. 

~

Alex had told him not to wait, but he does anyway. Of course he does. 

God, he would wait so long for just-

The patrons have already started to trickle out. The bar is closing up shop. The show is over. The main act is in the back room, fucking another girl. 

It’s very quiet. Thomas sits alone on a stool. The bartender looks at him with what he assumes is pity.

When Alexander finally emerges from the back, he doesn't look surprised to see Thomas still there. He has a strange little pleased smile playing on those lips.

Thomas lets him take his arm. “Gonna walk me home like a proper gentleman?” Alex asks.

He raises an eyebrow. “Do you deserve a proper gentleman?” He asks. 

Alex throws his head back and laughs. 

~

They share a cigarette as they walk. Thomas almost wishes that Alex’s apartment is farther away. 

The streetlamps cast a hazy yellow glow over the still air, and their footsteps echo loudly across the pavement. The stars spin in the sky. 

“Jesus, tonight was hard,” the dancer says, stretching, and that should be illegal to look at. Thomas sends a quick prayer to whoever is listening to get him through this walk. 

“Not the only thing that was hard,” Thomas mumbles, and Alex pushes him.

“It’s okay if you feel jealous at my superior lovemaking skills, Tommy. I know you haven’t had a date in- how long? I could help with that, you know-” 

“You filthy little whore,” Thomas says, disgusted, and disgusted that he still wants this man. 

“Mm,” Alex agrees, teeth glinting. “You still love me, though.”

**Author's Note:**

> Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High- Arctic Monkeys  
> Nicotine- Panic! At The Disco  
> Is There Somebody Who Can Watch You-The 1975  
> Closer- The Tiny  
> Electric Love- BØRNS  
> I Put A Spell On You- Screamin’ Jay Hawkins  
> You Make Me Feel Like A Whore- Everclear  
> Stolen Dance- Milky Chance  
> Hurricane- Panic! At the Disco  
> It Only Gets Much Worse- Nate Ruess
> 
> Unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.


End file.
